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In the dark room where I began My mother's life made me a man. Through all the months of human birth Her beauty fed my common earth. I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir, But through the death of some of her.
John Masefield
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John Masefield
Age: 88 †
Born: 1878
Born: June 1
Died: 1967
Died: May 12
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
County of Herefordshire
John Edward Masefield
Men
Common
Began
Life
Death
Breathe
Mother
Birth
Cannot
Months
Earth
Room
Human
Rooms
Humans
Beauty
Stir
Made
Dark
Feds
More quotes by John Masefield
O lovely lily clean, O lily springing green, O lily bursting white, Dear lily of delight, Spring in my heart agen That I may flower to men.
John Masefield
Since the printing press came into being, poetry has ceased to be the delight of the whole community of man it has become the amusement and delight of the few.
John Masefield
God warms his hands at man's heart when he prays.
John Masefield
When the last sea is sailed and last shallow charted, When the last field is reaped and the last harvest stored, When the last fire is out and the last guest departed Grant the last prayer that I pray, Be good to me, O Lord.
John Masefield
The distant soul can shake the distant friend's soul and make the longing felt, over untold miles.
John Masefield
Life, a beauty chased by tragic laughter.
John Masefield
The three foundations of judgement: Bold Design, Constant Practice, and Frequent Mistakes.
John Masefield
Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain, And the watch fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.
John Masefield
In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.
John Masefield
All the great things of life are swiftly done, Creation, death, and love the double gate. However much we dawdle in the sun We have to hurry at the touch of Fate.
John Masefield
The Lord who gave us Earth and Heaven Takes that as thanks for all He's given. The book he lent is given back All blotted red and smutted black.
John Masefield
On the long dusty ribbon of the long city street, The pageant of life is passing me on multitudinous feet, With a word here of the hills, and a song there of the sea And-the great movement changes-the pageant passes me.
John Masefield
The days that make us happy make us wise
John Masefield
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
John Masefield
I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.
John Masefield
So death obscures your gentle form, So memory strives to make the darkness bright And, in that heap of rocks, your body lies, Part of the island till the planet ends, My gentle comrade, beautiful and wise, Part of this crag this bitter surge offends, While I, who pass, a little obscure thing, War with this force, and breathe, and am its king.
John Masefield
Love is a flame to burn out human wills, Love is a flame to set the will on fire, Love is a flame to cheat men into mire.
John Masefield
Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth
John Masefield
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.
John Masefield
To most of us the future seems unsure. But then it always has been and we who have seen great changes must have great hopes.
John Masefield